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Dogs Don't Tell Jokes

Page 11

by Louis Sachar


  Gary took several more deep breaths. It was supposed to help him relax, but instead, it made him lightheaded and dizzy.

  “I know it’s been a long night,” said Miss Langley, “but we have one more talented contestant: Gary W. Boone.”

  He wet his pants.

  24.

  Gary held the grocery bag full of props in front of his pants as he made his way to center stage. He had no idea how big a spot he’d made, or if it even showed—though he was wearing white pants, so it probably did—but he wasn’t about to drop the bag and look.

  “Gary will tell jokes,” said Miss Langley.

  He heard cheers from Abel, Gus, and Melissa, but he couldn’t see them because the bright lights were shining on him, and the audience was in the dark.

  “Thank you, Miss Longlegs,” he said.

  The audience laughed.

  “Why, Gary!” said Miss Langley with mock embarrassment. “I never thought you noticed.”

  The audience laughed again.

  It took him a moment to realize what he had said. “I’m—I’m s-sorry,” he stammered. He heard his voice boom over the speaker system. Like Fred Furst had said, it was almost as if he heard his voice coming from the speakers before he even said the words.

  He stared out at the audience. His mind froze. He couldn’t remember how he was supposed to begin.

  “My friends call me Goon,” he said, “and you are my friends.” He didn’t know why he said that. He sounded like a politician, not a comedian. “See, you take the G from Gary and the ‘Boone’ from ‘Goon,’ and then—No, wait, did I say ‘Boone’? I mean—Okay, let me start over. Well, no, I won’t start over—you should never start over. I guess I shouldn’t have eaten a dead skunk for breakfast, ha ha.”

  It was all coming out wrong. He wasn’t supposed to say that yet. “And we didn’t have any maple syrup, ha ha!”

  He heard Abel laugh loudly. Nobody else joined him.

  “Reminds me of that rude policeman, Rudolph the—”

  At that moment Ryan Utt and Paul Wattenburg rushed the stage. Instinctively, Gary dropped the paper bag, grabbed his hat with both hands, and held it firmly on his head as Paul smashed a cream pie in his face. Ryan sprayed him up and down with a seltzer bottle. Then the two boys disappeared from the stage as quickly as they had come.

  There were a few gasps, but mostly everyone just sat in shocked silence. Miss Langley stood up.

  With one finger Gary wiped the cream away from his eyes. He spoke into the microphone: “That was my fan club.”

  Everyone laughed.

  He licked his finger, then turned toward Paul and Ryan, who were at the foot of the stage stairs. “My compliments to the chef.”

  The audience laughed again, and Miss Langley sat back down.

  “It happens to me wherever I go,” said Gary. “That’s why I always carry this!” He reached into his paper bag and pulled out a large bath towel.

  The audience laughed as Gary wiped his face with the towel. When he finished, he held it up and said, “Don’t leave home without it.”

  They actually applauded.

  The two disasters had canceled each other out. His pants were now wet anyway from the seltzer. He felt calm and in control. The audience was on his side.

  “As I was saying, my name is Gary Boone, but all my friends”—he glanced at Paul and Ryan—“call me Goon.”

  They even laughed at that.

  “See, my first name’s Gary and my last name’s Boone, so when you put them together you get Goon. Now, if you think that’s bad, I’ve got a sister named Sally. Everyone calls her Saloon.”

  There was more laughter, led by Gus, Abel, and Melissa.

  “I have another sister named Barbara. You know what we call her?” (Pause: One … two … three.) “Baboon.”

  He waited a moment. “Of course, it doesn’t help that she is always eating bananas and scratching her armpits.

  “But probably the person with the worst name is my best friend, Phil Hart. I can’t even tell you what we call him.”

  He waited as bits of laughter broke out in different sections of the audience as different people got the joke.

  “Now, you’re probably wondering why I’m wearing this hat. Well, it’s kind of a long story.”

  “Tell us!” shouted Gus.

  Gary smiled. “Okay, I will. It started out this morning. I guess you might say I got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” He paused. “My bed is up against the wall.” He paused again. “I think I broke my nose.”

  Several people laughed.

  “I went downstairs, where my mother was making breakfast. I couldn’t smell a thing.” Another pause. “Actually, that’s not bad when my mother is cooking breakfast. I should break my nose more often.”

  He thought he heard his mother laugh.

  “She’s not exactly the greatest cook. Last night we had fish for dinner. My mother fed them worms. The rest of us had spaghetti. You know the difference between a plate of spaghetti and a plate of worms? Well, you better find out if you’re ever invited to our house for dinner!

  “After breakfast I went to the doctor.

  “ ‘Doc, I think my nose is broken.’

  “He looked at it and said, ‘No, it’s still running.’

  “ ‘But Doc,’ I said. ‘I don’t smell.’

  “ ‘Oh yes you do,’ he said. ‘You stink!’ ” Gary held his nose with one hand and fanned away the foul-smelling air with the other, imitating the doctor.

  The audience laughed, so Gary pretended they’d hurt his feelings. “Sure, you laugh. Well, I didn’t think it was very funny. I thought he was being rude. I don’t know—maybe it was my fault. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten two dead skunks for breakfast.”

  The audience laughed. He hadn’t planned to say two dead skunks, but at that moment it suddenly seemed funnier than just one.

  “It was the only time a doctor has ever told me not to say ‘Ahhhhh.’

  “So, do you want to know why I ate two dead skunks for breakfast?”

  “Why?” shouted Melissa, Abel, and several other people near them.

  “We were out of waffles,” answered Gary. “But I started to tell you why I’m wearing this hat. See, the doctor gave me some special mouthwash and soap.” He reached into his paper sack and pulled out a used bar of soap and half a bottle of mouthwash. “This stuff is so strong you can’t even buy it without a prescription.” He took a whiff of the soap, then quickly turned his head away and coughed.

  “So I went home and gargled. Actually, the mouthwash didn’t taste too bad.” He looked at the bottle. “Sort of like, um, well, actually it tasted a lot like a dead skunk.

  “Except without the maple syrup.”

  “Oh, gross!” someone shouted, amid the laughter. That just made the crowd laugh more.

  For a second Gary stopped and enjoyed the laughter. He felt completely at home on stage, in front of a microphone. Everything was clicking for him. He had his routine down pat, but he was also ad-libbing to give it spontaneity.

  “That reminds me. You know how to tell a girl worm from a boy worm? By kissing them.”

  Everyone laughed.

  He hadn’t planned to tell that joke. It just felt right at that moment. He quickly went on before anyone realized it made no sense.

  “I got in the shower, and put that special soap all over me.” He pulled a washcloth out of his sack.

  They even laughed at that, which surprised him because he didn’t remember thinking that was a joke.

  He pretended he was in the shower. He washed his chest, his feet, behind his knees, and under his arms. It all worked better than he’d planned, since he was wet from the seltzer. He smelled his armpit, then washed it again.

  “So there I was, all covered with this special soap from head to toe, and suddenly the water shut off! The smelly stuff was even in my hair. And no water! Can you imagine that?

  “You can?

  “You people are s
ick! I don’t imagine any of you naked in the shower!”

  He paused. “Well, maybe some of you.” He looked off stage left. “I sometimes like to imagine Miss Longlegs in the shower.”

  She burst out laughing.

  He continued to look at her. “And you always thought I wasn’t paying attention in class.”

  She covered her face with her hands and shook her head.

  He looked back at the audience. “So there I was, covered with soap, no water—” He stopped. “You know, I really got this backward. My friend Phil Hart I told you about—he gave me advice on how to keep from getting stage fright. He said, ‘Just imagine everyone in the audience naked.’ ”

  A few people laughed.

  “Instead, I’ve got everyone in the audience imagining me naked!

  “Of course, that’s Phil’s advice for anything. ‘You know how to keep from crying at funerals? Imagine everyone naked.’ ‘You know what to do if you get sent to the principal’s office? Imagine the principal naked.’ ”

  He glanced at Mrs. Ward, but she didn’t seem to think it was funny.

  “Phil was a great baseball player until he played against an all girls’ team.” The audience was already laughing, anticipating the punch line. “He struck out looking every time.

  “So, you want to know why I ate two dead skunks for breakfast?”

  “Whyyyy?” at least half the audience shouted back to him.

  “I couldn’t wait until lunch.

  “Okay, so I’m standing in the shower with no water—”

  Gary stopped. He picked up his towel and wrapped it around his waist. “There, that’s better.

  “Do you want to know the real reason I ate two dead skunks for breakfast?”

  “Whyyyy?” almost everyone shouted.

  “Because one’s just never enough. Like potato chips.

  “So I’m standing in the shower with the special soap all over me, with nothing to do except wait for the water to come back on. It was miserable. I got to thinking about my rude doctor. He reminded me of that famous rude policeman. Officer Ed. You know, the one they wrote the song about.”

  He looked at the audience as if surprised they didn’t know what he was talking about. “You know about Officer Ed, don’t you?

  “He was always very rude to everyone. Even more rude than my doctor.

  “One day a husband and wife came to a street corner where Officer Ed was directing traffic.

  “ ‘Good morning, Officer Ed,’ said the husband.

  “ ‘Shut up!’ said Officer Ed. ‘I suppose you want me to stop traffic now, just so you and your ugly wife can cross the street.’

  “ ‘My, it’s a beautiful day,’ said the wife.

  “ ‘It’s going to rain, stupid!’ said Officer Ed. ‘I’ve never met such stupid people in all my life.’

  “ ‘But there’s not a cloud in the sky,’ said the woman.

  “ ‘Read my lips, lady,’ said Officer Ed. ‘It’s going to rain.’

  “Sure enough, before they even made it across the street, the clouds blew in and the rain poured down. The man and woman had to run under a doorway for cover.

  “ ‘My goodness,’ said the woman. ‘Officer Ed is extremely rude.’

  “ ‘Yes, dear,’ said her husband. ‘But he knows rain.’

  “Well, it just so happened that the man and woman were songwriters, and that’s what gave them the idea for that famous song.”

  Gary put his hands on his hips and looked at the audience as if surprised they didn’t know the song. “Oh, c’mon, you know that song!”

  He spoke the title very slowly. “Rude … Officer … Ed … knows … rain … dear.”

  Gary repeated the title, this time singing it to the tune of the well-known Christmas song. “Rude Officer Ed knows rain, dear.”

  There were many groans amid the laughter.

  “So, you want to know why I ate two dead skunks for breakfast?”

  “Whyyyy?”

  “Because the live ones squeal when you stick in the fork.”

  The towel, which had been wrapped around him, suddenly fell to the floor.

  The audience laughed hysterically as he quickly picked it up and wrapped it back around himself, feigning embarrassment.

  “I found out later that the reason I had no water was because my dad was fixing something in the other bathroom.” (Pause: One … two … three.) “He was changing a light bulb.

  “My dad’s great around the house. He turns off the water when he changes a light bulb, and he turns off the electricity when the toilet gets backed up. ‘Can’t be too careful,’ he says.”

  Gary thought he heard his father laugh.

  “He’s right too, especially when he’s the one doing the work. He recently installed an automatic garage door opener and a new toilet. Now every time you push the button to open the garage, the toilet flushes. And every day when he drives home from work, he honks his horn, and then I run to the bathroom and push the lever down on the toilet so the garage door will open.

  “Well anyway, after about two hours, my dad finished changing the light bulb and the water came back on. By the time I got out of the shower, it was time for lunch. You want to know what my mother made for lunch?”

  “Whaaaat?”

  Gary shrugged. “A peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Why’d you want to know that?

  “But I was telling you why I was wearing this hat. See, I had that special prescription soap in my hair for two hours, so …”

  In one sweeping motion he took off his hat and bowed.

  He was bald from his ears up.

  The audience went wild.

  25.

  “That was … something,” said Miss Langley joining Gary at center stage. “May I feel?”

  “Sure.”

  The audience laughed as she ran her fingers over the top of Gary’s bald head. “Smooooth,” she said.

  Gary smiled.

  “So why’d you leave the hair on the sides of your head?” she asked.

  “That way you couldn’t tell I shaved my head when I was wearing my hat,” he explained. “See.” He put the hat back on his head, then took it off again.

  The audience applauded.

  His hair formed a halo around his head.

  “Clever,” said Miss Langley. “So, Gary W. Boone. What does the W stand for?”

  “Wolfgang,” said Gary.

  Everyone laughed again.

  “Rocket!” said Fred Furst as Gary, hat on head, returned to the bench behind the curtain.

  “C’mon, Goon, take your hat off,” said Brenda. “Let us see your head.”.

  Gary obliged. All the other contestants gathered around. Only Joe stayed away.

  Paul Wattenburg and Ryan Utt were also backstage.

  “No hard feelings, huh, Goon?” said Paul.

  “Are you kidding, that was great!” said Gary as Marsha Posey touched his head. “Pie in the face. Seltzer. It was classic!”

  Leslie Ann Cummings looked but didn’t touch.

  “You’re all right, Goon,” said Paul.

  “You really are bald,” said Ryan.

  “As bald as your butt,” said Gary.

  All the contestants were brought back on stage. Miss Langley held her hand over each student’s head, and the audience applauded accordingly.

  Third prize, ice cream sundaes for two, went to Susan Smith, the gymnast. Brenda Thompson won second prize, the gift certificate at Zulu’s Records. And to thunderous applause, Gary Wolfgang Boone was awarded first prize.

  He tipped his hat to the crowd.

  His parents were waiting for him when he stepped down from the stage. “I’m just glad I didn’t know,” said his mother. Then she hugged him.

  His father hugged him as soon as his mother let him go.

  “You’re not mad?” asked Gary.

  “You already cut it off,” his mother said. “What good would it do to be mad? Just do me a favor. When we visit Grandma next week—leav
e your hat on.”

  “There’s the superstar!” said Abel Persopolis. “May I have the privilege of shaking your hand?”

  Gary shook Abel’s hand, and Gus’s. Gus winked at him.

  Melissa took off Gary’s hat and kissed him right on top of the head.

  “You must be Gary’s parents,” said Abel. “Abel Persopolis. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a long time.”

  “Spencer Boone,” said Gary’s father, shaking his hand. “But you can call me Spoon.”

  They all laughed.

  “Too bad Angeline couldn’t be here,” Gary’s mother said.

  “Well, we videotaped it for her,” said Melissa. She nodded to the boy holding the camcorder. “We’ll show it to her tomorrow before the croquet game.”

  “Oh, that’s perfect!” said Gary’s father. “And Gary, you be sure to wear your hat until after the video is over. No, even better, take it off right at the same time you take it off in the video!”

  “You might want to shave your head again tomorrow morning so there’s no stubble,” suggested Gary’s mother.

  Gary looked at them in disbelief. Were these his parents?

  “Why don’t you all come over for dinner after your croquet game,” said Gary’s mother. “I’ve got a new recipe for dead skunk.”

  Abel, Gus, and Melissa laughed.

  “Just be sure to bring a garage door opener with you,” said Gary’s father. “In case you have to use the bathroom.”

  Abel pointed at Gary and said, “Now I know where you get it.”

  The fifth-grader who had operated the camcorder asked Gary for his autograph.

  Fred Furst was leaving with three people who were obviously his parents and big sister.

  Gary went after them. “Hey, Fred!”

  Fred stopped and turned.

  “Thanks,” said Gary.

  “For what?”

  Gary smiled and shrugged. “You want to play croquet tomorrow?”

  “Okay.”

  “Great,” said Gary.

  He gave him directions to Angeline’s house. “Oh, and you have to wear a hat.”

  “No problem,” said Fred.

  “And if anybody asks you, ‘What’s cookin’?’ you say ‘Mashed potatoes and gravy.’ ”

  “Why?”

  Gary shrugged. “I don’t know.”

 

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